


past life career choice

by evaneddie



Series: dhylen writes one shots [55]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: M/M, MASSEUSE!, More Fluff, eddie is buck's personal massage man, i forgot the word, lol im dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24676396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evaneddie/pseuds/evaneddie
Summary: eddie massages buck's leg after a tiring, painful day at work
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: dhylen writes one shots [55]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1433956
Comments: 8
Kudos: 160





	past life career choice

**Author's Note:**

> transfer from tumblr

“Eds, it’s fine, really,” he drawls for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Caring about Buck has always been something Eddie hasn’t been afraid to show, and while Buck appreciates it more than he can articulate into words, he doesn’t want to be a bother, a burden.

“I refuse to take no for an answer. I saw you limping, let me help you.” Not a hint of frustration in his words, Eddie’s face is tender, soft microexpressions aimed toward his friend.

For an answer, Buck huffs, exasperated and way too drained to argue any further. Though he won’t admit it, his leg is achy, and that, too, is taking a toll on him after their gruelling shift.

Buck doesn’t know where it comes from, but he sees Eddie holding some deep hear massage gel in his hands, readying himself for his next move. “Pants,” Buck hears him order.

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t get to your leg under your jeans, dummy. Strip your pants off.” Eyes flitting to Buck’s, Eddie smiles genuinely up at him from the other end of the couch.

“Fine, but next time, maybe buy me dinner first and use your manners,” retorts the taller man playfully.

“Hush, you baby.”

It’s weird, sitting on the couch in your boxer shorts, next to your best friend - whom you may or may not be ridiculously in love with - and having said friend knead carefully at your tender flesh. Everything is hitting Buck all at once. The events of their shift, the cool air of the winter hitting his bare skin, Eddie’s close proximity, touching him in more intimate ways than anyone else has before, the fact that he’s barely wearing anything that can easily cover the evidence of the effects the latter point is having on his body.

If Eddie notices, he probably won’t even say anything, that’s just who he is. But if by some phenomenon, he mentions it, Buck will of course play it off. He has a whole thing planned in his head.

_It’s relaxing my whole body, it’s just a natural reaction._

_I haven’t been touched so caringly in a while, it’s just hands, not who they’re attached to._

_The mix of the cold weather and the icy burn of the muscle rub is confusing my senses._

No way would he tell Eddie that he wants more, that he has wanted more for a very long time. There’s not a chance he would tell anyone that having Eddie’s thumbs work against his calf gives him visions of dirtier things he wishes he were doing right now. It’s definitely not something he would voice when he thinks of how relaxed and loved he feels, and how he is getting turned on. He shouldn’t be. This is just a friendly moment between two guys.

But to Buck it’s so much more than that, and damn he wishes Eddie feels the same. But that’s never going to happen.

“I swear you were a masseuse in a past life, shit.” Buck’s words aren’t met with a responding sound, so he says naught following that.

Stupidly, he can’t stop the soft moan that escapes from between his lips when Eddie brushes over a deep knot underneath one of the scars on his shin. Only now does he become self-conscious about his leg, about how matted it is with faded pink flesh in jagged lines, webbed white marks stretching across the surface.

But damn, Eddie’s fingers feel so good, easing the tense pain slowly, the throb he’s been feeling the last four hours fading slowly into the background.

Eventually, the ministrations cease, and Buck can’t force his eyes open. Not yet. He can’t face Eddie just yet. He wants to sit here a while longer, his head leaning on the armrest, with his legs resting in Eddie’s lap.

“Buck?” Eddie whispers, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” Still not daring to open his eyes, Buck doesn’t move.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” and he does. He manages to stretch the length of the couch, resting a hair above Buck, without jostling him too much.

Buck doesn’t open his eyes when Eddie’s mouth presses against his, doesn’t open his eyes when he places his hands on Eddie’s hips, doesn’t open his eyes when he feels a tongue begging for access to the cave of his mouth.

He does pull back then, however. Slowly, he blinks his eyes open, and is met with the beautiful honey hue of Eddie’s. “Are you sure?” Buck questions, smiling gently.

“One hundred percent. When you moaned, I lost all self control and-”

He doesn’t let Eddie finish, lunging upwards and he crashes their lips together again.

Huh, so looks like it is going to happen after all. Who would have thought?


End file.
